Death and the Slayer
by Jade Hunter
Summary: My 100 BuffyMethos drabbles and ficlets for the TtH100 project on livejournal.
1. By the Light of the Moon

**Title:** Death and the Slayer

**Author:** Jade Hunter

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters or properties of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Highlander_ belong to me.

**A.N.:** So...yeah.

* * *

It was a chilly night, and his coat probably would have afforded him more protection from the elements had he buttoned it up. Seeing as how he was in a cemetery in the dead of the night, however, Methos had long decided that the chill was a small price to pay if it meant a quicker draw of his sword. As a man who had made it his business to survive - and as someone who was damn good at it - Methos had to admit that even the familiar comfort of the hilt of his sword wouldn't have been enough to keep him here any other night.

But tonight, he was here with her, and that was enough, even when the familiar hilt of his sword was not.

She was beautiful.

Well, she was always beautiful, but it was a different kind of beauty that marked her tonight. The moon was out, and even as the shadows sought to embrace her like a lover, she glittered hard and deadly in the moonlight. A beacon of hope for some, a sign of death for others, she was an utterly different creature now than she was twelve hours ago.

During the day, she was just as human was everyone else, struggling to make it another day in a world filled with problems on top of problems. More than that, something seemed to sap a little bit of the fire and confidence inside of her when the sun rose. Demons and vampires, she could handle without batting an eyelash. The intricacies of the real world, she had yet to master. But by the light of the moon, she regained control, and her true brilliance was made clear. The little problems that accumulated over the course of the day had dropped from her shoulders with the setting of the sun; and in the reprieve that the moon granted her, she became a force of nature itself.

Being out here, cold and wary, jumping at every little snap of a twig...it was all worth it, to be able to see her like this, as free as she was meant to be.

* * *

FIN.


	2. Relative Ease

**Title:** Relative Ease

**Author:** Jade Hunter

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters or properties of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Highlander_ belong to me.

**Prompt:** 002 - Death.

* * *

The first time she saw him come back to life, she locked herself in the bathroom. It took him an hour to coax her out, and even then she wouldn't tell him what was wrong. He knew better than to push, of course, being the oldest man alive and all, and she was grateful for that much, at least. She didn't think he would understand why exactly his return from death had affected her so much, didn't think she could explain it properly to him.

It had been so easy for him.

He'd just taken a sharp breath, stood up, dusted himself off, and that had been that - no muss, no fuss, ready to go on with life once again. Death was a part of him. Not in the way that he had _been_ Death once, but in the way that he often found himself coming back from the dead. It was easy for him, because it was a relief. He liked not being dead, and every time he came back, he breathed a little sigh of relief.

The first time, she'd been like that, too. A little more freaked out about the fact that she'd been dead, but she had been glad that she was still alive.

The second time... That hadn't been easy at all. It _still_ wasn't easy. It had been years, but she still woke up every morning and found herself just a little bit depressed as she went through her morning routine. She no longer wanted to die, that was true, but that didn't mean she'd forgotten the time when she came home from patrol disappointed that she was still alive. She had stopped dwelling on it, true, but she had never stopped hurting. She tried not to think about it, but, deep in side, she knew that the hurt was a wound she would carry for the rest of her life.

However long that may be.

She loved him. She knew that. He understood what it was like to have something inside of you that craved blood; it was a different kind of monster, for him, one he wasn't proud of, but he knew it was different, and didn't make her feel ashamed for being the Slayer. He didn't expect her to be cheerful every day, let her do stuff like lock herself in the bathroom for hours without getting frustrated, and he knew when to be there for her and when to give her space. She loved him, because he understood her. She loved him because he made her laugh.

But a part of her resented him, because it was so easy for him.

A sharp breath, and then he was ready to go on with life again.

He didn't know. It wasn't his fault that he didn't know, death is not supposed to be easy, not supposed to be something you wake up from and shrug off, and she hated it when it happened because he made it look easy.

It wasn't.

* * *

FIN.


	3. The Thanksgiving Nazi

**Title:** The Thanksgiving Nazi

**Author:** Jade Hunter

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters or properties of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Highlander_ belong to me.

**Prompt:** 035 - Turkeys.

* * *

The week before Thanksgiving, he'd heard the nickname being whispered throughout the house. Always in hushed tones, always five rooms away from her, because the person they were talking about had super hearing, super strength, and a not quite super (but still formidable) temper.

"Especially this time of year," Xander had informed him, nodding sagely. "Something about Thanksgiving...it changes her...warps her blood. Has since freshman year of college. For a long time, we thought it was a spell, but, no, it's just her. She becomes a cooking, cleaning, scolding machine who wants her peas un-frozen, her mashed potatoes without lumps, and her turkeys basted to perfection. She becomes...the Thanksgiving Nazi."

Named after a character on a TV show, he was told. Some girl had been a Christmas Nazi on some teen drama show on the WB, but he was never one for watching that kind of television, and so had no idea what they were talking about.

As Thanksgiving weekend drew closer, however, the changes her friends spoke of began to happen. First, she took over the kitchen from a highly disgruntled Andrew, who, although he complained loudly to everyone else, wisely kept his mouth shut and his eyes lowered in the Slayer's presence. Then, she handed out shopping assignments to everyone, including him, and he'd ended up having to shop for yams. Not canned, as he was later told in ringing tones, but fresh ones - that was the key. _Everything _had to be made from scratch, the freshest it could be, because this was Thanksgiving and she was the Thanksgiving Nazi.

With every passing day, she became more concerned with a perfect Thanksgiving and less concerned with...well, everything else. Anyone who dared to bother her with something not Thanksgiving related put themselves at risk for having their heads bitted off.

Even, as it turned out, him. Like a good boyfriend, he'd tried to distract her a few times, to get her to relax, but apparently, the Thanksgiving Nazi did not have a soft spot for boyfriends. All he'd earned was a, "Go away, or at least do something useful and peel those potatoes!"

_Not _a response he normally got from women when he set out to seduce them.

After that incident, Xander had come to him again, beer in hand as a consolation prize. "Others have tried before you, and we all have failed," the young man intoned solemnly. "Nothing can get her out of Thanksgiving Nazi mode, not even the promise of nookie, as you've just found out. All we can do is ride out the storm. Once Thanksgiving passes, she'll be back to normal."

All Methos could do was nod, and hope that it was true.

* * *

FIN.


	4. In the Aftermath

**Title:** In the Aftermath

**Author:** Jade Hunter

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters or properties of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Highlander_ belong to me.

**Prompt:** 099 - Torture.

* * *

He collapsed next to her, his expression blank as his mind tried to process what he had just been through. She pulled him into her arms, slinging one leg over his, and ran a hand through his hair comfortingly when he pressed his face into the crook of her neck.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice low and soothing.

Methos sighed; "Yeah."

His voice was rough and uneven, a sign of how much the events of the day had truly gotten under his skin. Buffy made a small noise of acknowledgment at his reply and simply kept running her fingers through his hair.

"You need a haircut."

"Yeah," he said again.

There was a long moment of silence. A car honked outside, a dog barked, and the two of them lay entwined on the couch.

"You were right," he admitted, finally. "I shouldn't have gone. Not alone, at least."

A small smile quirked Buffy's lips, "So...I can say it?"

He rolled his eyes, and pillowed his head more comfortably on her shoulder. "You can say it."

"I told you," she said, quite smugly, and Methos sighed again. "I _told_ you that you'd regret agreeing to spend the day helping Andrew with his research."

* * *

FIN.


End file.
